Your Song
by Farky-fark and the Munky Bunch
Summary: Even after six months of dating, Sandor Clegane is cautious about the physical aspect of his relationship with Sansa Stark and, frustrated by the lack of progress, she decides to take matters into her own hands on their first Valentine's Day together. SanSan one-shot. Complete.
1. Your Song

**A/N: **Hello all, this is just something that came to mind last night as I was contemplating my own Valentine's Day plans and I decided that it was about time for me to write a SanSan one-shot, and why not today? So here it is, slightly inspired by the song Your Song by Elton John and covered by Ellie Goulding. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy Valentine's Day!

**Disclaimer: **The _A Song of Ice and Fire _universe and everything in it belongs to George R. R. Martin. And that is not my name.

**Rating: **M for strong language, mentions of physical abuse, and heavy implications of sexual content

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><p><em>"I know it's not much but<em>  
><em>It's the best I can do<em>  
><em>My gift is my song and<em>  
><em>This one's for you"<em>

-Elton John

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><p>For once in her life, Sansa Stark was impatient. <em>Very <em>impatient. She paced nervously from one end of the entryway of her family's mansion to the other, wringing her hands, peeking at her watch, stopping beside the mirror on the wall with each stride and fixing her hair for the umpteenth time. He wasn't even late yet. In fact, if he showed up now he would be early. But Sansa couldn't sit still and wait for another minute.

"God, Sansa, just _sit down_," Arya complained from the adjoining room where she was reclining on the couch with her boyfriend, their foreign-exchange student, Jaqen. "He'll be here when he gets here. No need to seem eager."

Sansa pursed her lips and took the opportunity to reapply her cherry red lipstick before responding to her younger sister's unwanted opinion. "Well I don't want to wait with you. Besides, if I sit down my dress might get wrinkled and I just ironed it."

She could practically hear her sister's eye roll. "By 'just' she means five hours ago, when she put it on to decide which shoes she wanted to wear; a process that took an hour on its own, I might add." Arya directed the comment toward her boyfriend but made sure that her sister could overhear it. Jaqen chuckled. Sansa huffed.

Before she could come up with a suitable retort, the doorbell rang and Sansa all but ran the short distance between herself and the door; as well as she could in five inch heels, anyway. Sandor Clegane was standing rather awkwardly on the porch when she opened the screen door and he gave her a small, somewhat nervous smile.

"Hey, umm...Happy Valentine's Day. I uh..." he pulled one of his hands out from behind his back and offered her a bouquet of ivory tulips. "Got you some flowers. I didn't know what kind you would want, but the guy at the store suggested these and I thought white because..." He swallowed and then finished lamely. "...you are...?"

In the living room, Arya laughed loudly and Sandor scowled, a rare blush creeping up to tint his unburnt cheek an uncharacteristic pink. "Little bitch," he muttered, ignoring the look of chastisement that Sansa shot him as she took the flowers from him and flitted away toward the kitchen.

"Let me put these in some water," she called over her shoulder, shooting a nasty look at Arya as she passed through the living room. The younger Stark stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry in return.

Once the tulips had been trimmed and arranged neatly in a vase on the kitchen table, Sansa hurried back out to find Sandor staring down at the ground with his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his black dress pants. He looked up when he heard her heels clicking on the hardwood floor and offered his arm to lead her outside, an offer she accepted graciously.

"Don't wait up for me!" She yelled back at Arya as they walked outside and she shivered involuntarily as the chill of the winter night cut through the thin fabric of her red lace dress. Sandor glanced over when she trembled and offered his suit jacket without a word.

"Thank you," Sansa said quietly, wrapping herself in the comforting warmth of his jacket before taking the black motorcycle helmet he handed her and strapping it beneath her chin.

"You're welcome," he replied gruffly, climbing on his motorcycle and nudging the kickstand aside as he revved the engine.

The majority of the ride back to his apartment passed in silence, not that they could have heard each other over the sound of the busy Chicago streets as they whizzed by taxis and limos alike, some with couples tucked inside hoping to enjoy the night in semi-privacy. Somewhere nearby a street-corner musician played a sultry tune on an alto saxophone and the sound carried through the air, echoing through the crowded streets and reverberating off the cars stuck in rush-hour traffic.

The wind whipped harshly against their faces as they rode through the city and Sansa closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of freedom that she always felt when she was with Sandor and the distinct musky smell of the man around whose chest her arms were tightly wrapped.

Though it was an awkward and clumsy movement with the bulk of Sandor's helmet on her head, she pressed her lips gently to the back of his neck where a section of slightly scarred flesh was visible above the collar of his starched white dress shirt and whispered against the rough skin beneath her mouth, "I love you, Sandor Clegane."

"Did you say something, little bird?" Sandor's deep rasping voice broke her from her reverie and she pulled away, resting her chin against one of his broad shoulders.

"No, just...talking to myself."

She could hear the smile in his words. "Chirping again are we?"

Although his pet name for her had started as a taunt to mock the courtesy and manners she had coldly directed toward him when she had been dating Joffrey Baratheon, it had become much more and now that she had put her abusive relationship behind her and moved ahead with a better man, she was quite fond of being Sandor's little bird.

Sansa chose not to respond and after turning the corner, Sandor's apartment building rose up to meet them and he steered effortlessly into the entrance to the parking garage, settling his big black motorcycle into its proper place with the ease of an experienced motorist.

After dismounting and smoothing out the skirt of her dress, Sansa handed off her helmet and took Sandor's offered hand. Twining her thin fingers through his own calloused ones, she smiled sweetly up at him and her heart swelled at the crooked grin she got in return.

She knew that Sandor was still adjusting to being the object of her affections and though they had been dating for nearly six months already, he was proceeding slowly in their relationship, cautiously testing the waters so as not to push her farther than she was comfortable. Of course, she had reached the point where his slow pace was beginning to get a bit frustrating, but she was hoping that tonight would change that.

Once in the seclusion of the elevator, Sansa turned toward her boyfriend and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips. He tensed slightly but allowed himself to give her a chaste kiss, pulling away when she tried to deepen it. An expression of hurt and confusion flashed across her pretty features and Sandor avoided her gaze, ashamed of the thoughts that filled his brain.

Of course he wanted her, who wouldn't? She was sweet, beautiful, innocent, and had a body that women would kill for and men would kill to get their hands on. But he knew that if he allowed himself to give into what she meant as curious explorations of the parts of a physical relationship that Joffrey had never shown her he wouldn't be able to hold himself back and he was afraid of what he would do to her given the chance.

The tense silence that had settled over them was broken by an innocuous ding from the elevator and Sandor dug his apartment key from his pocket, keeping his right hand in Sansa's so as not to hurt her feelings any further.

Though it was not her first time in Sandor's apartment, the first time being the night he had brought her there to nurse her back to health after the nearly life-threatening beating Joffrey had delivered after having lost a high stakes poker game to her eldest brother, she still took in her surroundings with a certain amount of awe.

It looked as though Sandor had actually made an effort to pick up before their date, though she could still see a few discarded beer bottles hidden about the living room and a pair of pants shoved unceremoniously beneath the couch. Kicking off his shoes, Sandor padded quietly into the kitchen and opened his freezer, leaving Sansa to stand in the entryway. Closing the front door behind her, she took off her heels and absently trailed after him, placing a hand gently on the small of his back to get his attention.

"May I use your restroom, please?" Sandor grunted noncommittally and waved his hand toward the back of his apartment as more of a reflex than anything. She already knew where it was.

Slightly injured by the wall he had put up around himself after her affections in the elevator, she left him behind to tackle dinner and walked across the thickly carpeted floors toward the restroom. She was nearly there when she hesitated and peeked over her shoulder before quietly opening the door to the room just off to her left.

Leaving the lights off, Sansa peered into the darkness of Sandor's bedroom, smiling slightly at the sight of the familiar mess she associated with her boyfriend. Her eyes were drawn to his unmade bed and unbidden, the thought of him on it, in a rather advanced stage of undress, sprang to the front of her mind and she swiftly shut the door, her face flushing a deep red at the impropriety of her thoughts.

Sandor could hear the bathroom door slam closed at the back of his apartment and he sighed heavily, running a hand across his face in a gesture of weariness and defeat. Hardly an hour together and it seemed he had already managed to push the little bird away.

Yanking open the door to the oven, he shoved a frozen pizza onto the bottom rack and then withdrew his hand, swearing when his finger met the hot metal and flared up with the all-too-familiar pain of being burned.

"Fuck."

"Let me help you." The quiet request came from behind him and he turned around to see Sansa standing behind him, her face flushed a lovely shade of red and her hair swept aside to reveal the length of her pale neck. Sandor swallowed and nodded dumbly.

Gently taking his hand in her own, she led him over to the sink and turned on the cold water, running his finger beneath it until the red faded and he pulled it away.

"Better?" Sansa asked, looking up to meet his gaze. "Or would a kiss do it good?" She took his silence as affirmation and pressed her lips to his finger before parting them slightly, just enough to let it slide past and into the wet warmth of her mouth. When she looked up at Sandor from beneath her mascara-enhanced lashes, his eyes were dark and hazy, his expression vacant. Slowly pulling away, she released his finger with a wet _pop_ and then stepped back, a bright blush rising to color her cheeks.

She was about ready to regret her forwardness when Sandor closed the gap between them and wrapped his strong arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Gasping quietly in surprise, Sansa found her lips swiftly claimed by his as he kissed her with all the fervor she had spent the past few months longing for. She clumsily kissed him back, her teeth hitting his when she tried to return the kiss with the same passion he was pouring into it. She pulled back self-consciously when Sandor chuckled and he looked down at her with an unfamiliar expression, moving his hand to cup her jaw as his thumb lightly traced her cheekbone.

"Such an innocent little bird."

Sansa paled slightly and looked away, a sour feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. _Innocent._ Not exactly what a man like Sandor Clegane was looking for in a woman. "Do I...do I not...please you?" She whispered, avoiding his gaze so he wouldn't be able to see her crying when he affirmed her fears.

"Not please me..." Sandor exhaled heavily and she felt one of his large hands tilting her chin up so she was looking into his dark grey eyes. "Fuck, girl, you please me too much. I can't be trusted around a sweet little thing like you."

He bent down and kissed her again, slower this time so she could grow accustomed to the feel of his half-burnt lips parted against her own before his tongue swept lightly across her closed lips in a silent plea for entry. She submitted without hesitation, her knees buckling as he expertly dominated the heady kiss.

Before he could change his mind, Sandor swept Sansa off her feet, her small squeak of surprise shooting straight to his groin as he made long strides toward the back of his apartment. His bedroom door was shoved open with a heavily muscled shoulder and Sansa was thrown not ungently down onto his bed, leaving her stunned and more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

Her legs were splayed from her fall, revealing enough of a glimpse at what she wore beneath her short skirt to make any man hard, her curly auburn hair was tousled messily, and her full red lips were swollen as evidence of the aggressive attention he had paid to them. As he stared down at her, the half-drunken threat he had snarled at her upon their first meeting rose to mind. _"I'll have a song from you, little bird, whether you will it or not." _Damn him if he didn't still mean it.

She didn't push him away when he climbed on top of her as he half expected her to and her long pale legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, sending his hips crashing against hers in an embarrassing display of a teenage-esque lack of self-control. His brain was too muddled from a lack of blood flow to even think to apologize and when her lips found his again, his lack of concentration made itself known.

"I love you, Sansa."

Before he could think about whether or not he even meant what he had just said, Sansa hummed quietly beside his ear and wrapped her arms around his back, her eyes closing in pleasure. "I love you too, Sandor. And..." her eyes fluttered open again and she met his lust-filled gaze. "I want you. I have for so long, and...this...this is what I wanted to give you, for..." she trailed off for a moment and mewled softly when his lips found the pulse-point below her jaw. "...Valentine's Day..."

"Give me?" Sandor murmured. "I don't understand."

She smiled and met his gaze with eyes long since past the ordinary shade of Tully Blue. "This. Your song."


	2. Sing for Me

**A/N: **Hello all. I know that I said this was going to be a one-shot, but...It's Sandor and Sansa. What did you expect? They're adorable; I couldn't just leave them where I did, so I finally said 'you know what? Screw the rating system. They're gonna have sex'. And so...they do. In honor of my second Valentine's Day actually in a relationship, have some absolutely plotless SanSan smut.

**Disclaimer: **The _A Song of Ice and Fire _universe and everything in it belongs to George R. R. Martin. And that is not my name.

**Rating: **M for strong language and heavy sexual content

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><p><em>"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind<em>  
><em>That I put down in words<em>  
><em>How wonderful life is while you're in the world"<em>

* * *

><p>Sandor pulled away when he realized the implication of her statement and he looked down into her wide blue eyes. "Are you sure, little bird? I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with." That was a damned lie, as he wanted to do things with her—<em>to <em>her—that she likely didn't know were even possible, but he supposed he could muster some semblance of self-control and find his release within his own fist if she changed her mind.

Instead, much to his surprise and perverse delight, she shook her head. "I want this, Sandor, I promise. I just..." She blushed slightly and fingered the hem of her dress. "You'll have to teach me."

God, _teach her_? Tell her how to put those pretty red lips around his cock and—He shook the thoughts from his head and kissed those alluring lips of hers to keep them at bay. If he didn't want to scare her off or make her regret this later, he'd have to make sure she got as much out of the ordeal as he did, if not more.

Cautiously, he moved so that he was lying flat on his back with Sansa straddling his hips and he brought his hands to the bottom of her dress. When she didn't object, he lifted it off and over her head with her assistance before hastily discarding it on the already cluttered carpet. Even with all the time he'd spent dreaming about a naked and willing Sansa Stark in his bed, not even his wildest fantasies had done his little bird justice. Her creamy, pale, unblemished skin all but shone in the moonlight that filtered in through the window and he could just barely see the blush creeping down from her cheeks to her heaving chest as he stared.

"Fuck," he breathed softly, then cursed himself for not saying something she would have wanted to hear. Something like, 'you're beautiful', because sweet heaven above she certainly was.

As though to break him from his trance, Sansa smiled shyly and brought her hands behind her back so the she could unhook her recently purchased lacy black bra and drop it off of the side of the bed, revealing her full, round, unjustifiably delicious breasts.

Sandor groaned at the sight before him and moved one of his hands to rest against her narrow waist. "Sansa...little bird...you're so..." Hot? Sexy? No, those weren't words for a girl like Sansa. She was... "Perfect."

Her blush deepened and she sought out his other hand so she could twine her fingers through his. "Thank you," she murmured quietly, then leaned down to give him a quick kiss.

He wasted no time in deepening the kiss, reveling in the quiet moan that Sansa uttered when his tongue swept between her parted lips. Her mouth met his eagerly, polished teeth tugging at his ruined bottom lip as his hands roamed south to the curve of her ass. A low groan rumbled from his throat as his fingers met bare skin and he squeezed the firm cheeks in his palms, all but panting as he explored this newly revealed part of his gorgeous little bird.

With surprising boldness, Sansa gained control with a gentle but clumsy squeeze to the bulge beneath Sandor's belt, but when he regarded her with wide, hungry eyes, her blush returned and her courage seemed to falter. She moved to pull her hand away, but he quickly covered it with his own and guided it in a hasty rub of the hard length that lay beneath her palm. The sensation had Sandor's eyes fluttering closed and he swore internally. If _this_ felt so bloody good, he'd be spilling into her hand before she even got his pants past his ankles, like some virgin boy seeing a pair of spread legs for the first time.

Quickly, yet with a fair amount of reluctance, he drew her hand away and kissed her fingertips before placing it at the top button of his pale yellow dress shirt. Taking his cue, Sansa's dexterous fingers swiftly undid the line of buttons and pushed the shirt off of his shoulders before moving onto the white t-shirt he wore beneath. Sandor chuckled at her eagerness and the mischievous gleam in his eyes made her blush, though she didn't hesitate in her attempt to divest him of his clothing. When confronted with his bare chest, she stilled, and Sandor could see in her eyes that for God only knew what reason, she thought he was as beautiful as he knew she was.

"Like what you see, little bird?" he teased, not expecting her to nod emphatically as she absently took her bottom lip between her teeth. Laughing, he sat up to kiss her forehead in a surprisingly affectionate gesture before adding wryly, "Perhaps you aren't as innocent as everyone's always thought you are."

Sansa smiled coyly. "Not when it comes to you, Sandor Clegane." His teeth flashed in a wide grin that faded in an instant as Sansa proved her statement by sliding her hands down his stomach to the buckle of his belt.

"Sans..." he groaned helplessly as the belt was unfastened and his slacks were pushed down to his knees before she could lose her courage and change her mind. Sansa made a point of keeping her gaze elsewhere as Sandor lifted his hips to help her rid him of his trousers then pushed his boxer-briefs down with them, suddenly impatient and wanting nothing more than to feel his girlfriend's hands on him.

When she was finally forced to face the evidence of his arousal, her face flushed to the color of her hair and Sandor gently lifted her chin so she was looking into his eyes. "Are you still sure about this, little bird?" He tucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "You know I'll still love you even if you decide you aren't ready yet."

She smiled shyly, and with some embarrassment, then leaned down to give him a kiss. "No, I want to do this. I want _you_, Sandor. All of you. I'm just a little nervous is all. I've never done this before."

Sandor gave her his best attempt at a soothing smile and ran a hand through her hair. "It's alright. But if you change your mind, just let me know and we can stop." He sincerely hoped he wouldn't regret saying that later.

Sansa nodded in acknowledgement before taking a deep breath and grasping Sandor's erection firmly in her fist with a suddenness that surprised them both. Going off the little information she had gleaned from her friends (in particular, Myranda Royce) and the occasional trashy romance novel that she had snuck into her room to read, she slid her hand down to the base and then back up, carefully watching Sandor's face for any sign of pleasure or otherwise.

Grimacing slightly, and still reeling from the shock of her sudden movement, Sandor gently pulled her hand away and cleared his throat before requesting in a voice a few octaves deeper than usual, "Spit on your hand."

The scandalized expression on her pretty features amused him. She was more than willing to grab his cock in those slender fingers of hers, but doing something so unladylike as _spitting..._heaven forbid. When she continued to just look at him in confusion and revulsion, Sandor turned his head to the side and spat into his own hand before stroking his hard length from base to tip. Understanding dawned in Sansa's eyes as she watched him, and he nodded slightly, urging her to continue as before.

She gained more confidence as she went on, though her movements were still hesitant and clumsy, and after a few minutes without much of a reaction from Sandor beyond the occasional curse, she scooted down and took him between her swollen lips, earning a low growl as her boyfriend's hands tangled in her hair. Sandor's mind reeled as he tried to remember how they had gotten from their tense elevator ride to _this_, but found that he didn't much care, so long as she stayed close enough for him to smell the musky vanilla scent of her perfume.

He hissed when her teeth grazed his skin, and she pulled away with profuse apologies, but he just smiled and shook his head. "Don't apologize, little bird. You just have a lot to learn." She nodded, and his reminder of her inexperience had her lowering her head again, but Sandor gently stopped her and gave her a crooked grin. "Come here." Blushing, she moved up to lie across his chest, shamelessly aroused by the new but not unpleasant sensation of his still hard and throbbing length pressed between their bodies.

Sandor brought her down to kiss her, enjoying the small moans that she uttered against his mouth as he sucked her tongue into his mouth and guided her hips in gentle circles, and when she was comfortably relaxed against his chest, he snuck a hand to the juncture of her thighs. Though he didn't have much experience pleasuring women in this way, he knew enough to search among the well-trimmed auburn curls beneath his fingers for the spot that would make her squirm above him and after considerable fumbling, Sansa silently guided his fingers to their goal and he smiled somewhat sheepishly. _So this is how she felt a moment ago_.

She smiled at him gently to soothe his obvious embarrassment, but her expression quickly shifted to one of shock and awe as he rubbed his fingers against the spot she had directed him to. "Oh." Her hands fisted in the sheets beside his shoulders as her eyes widened and she let out a small gasp.

Sandor grinned devilishly. "Does that feel good?" When her head bobbed in affirmation, his grin widened. "Do you ever touch yourself, little bird?" He expected her to flush and stammer something about how unladylike the mere suggestion was, but instead, though she did blush, she nodded again.

"Sometimes. In the shower. Or in bed. When I'm thinking about you." She let out a low moan of approval and arched up to kiss him before adding, "But I'm not very good at it. It's never felt anything like this."

Sandor's response was cut off by an almost timid cry of pleasure, and Sansa flushed a deeper shade of red as her hips bucked hard against his hand.

"Don't stop yourself, little bird," Sandor urged breathlessly, his fingers sliding lower to separate her slick folds. "Sing for me."

Obeying, Sansa gave a high-pitched whine as Sandor cautiously pressed his finger against her entrance before letting it slide into the tight, wet warmth that greeted him. His first thought, when he was again capable of rational thought, was to marvel at the evidence of how much she wanted him. Even though she had spent the majority of their relationship assuring him that the affections she bestowed upon him were completely of her own accord, he wasn't sure he had truly believed that until he sank his fingers into the depths of her tight and _incredibly_ wet heat. It was something that he would remember with awe and disbelief for the rest of his life, even at the end when she still remained, telling him how truly and deeply she had always loved him.

Sansa seemed beside herself with pleasure as Sandor curiously explored every exposed inch of her, and it wasn't long before she was grabbing desperately for his hands and breathing hard enough for his ego to rise again from its momentary fall. "Sandor," she gasped, her eyes wide and unfocused as she struggled to meet his gaze. "It's too much. I can't...I can't..." Her protestations were halted sharply as her mouth opened in an almost comical 'o' of surprise and she shuddered against him with a loud and startled cry of his name.

When she returned, Sandor had his arms wrapped protectively around her waist and his lips were brushing tenderly against the top of her head as he chuckled quietly. "How was that, little bird?"

Her eyelashes fluttered open to reveal the hazy blue beneath and her lips curved into a contented smile. "Amazing." She moved up to meet his mouth and kissed him with a sort of sloppy affection. "_You're _amazing."

Sandor gave a noncommittal grunt by way of reply and moved one hand to brush through the tangles of her tousled hair, trying desperately to ignore the way that the smooth skin of her stomach felt against his desperately hard and throbbing cock.

After only a few minutes, Sansa seemed to realize that her boyfriend had neglected his own release in order to give her hers and she moved up to kiss him, the warmth that had filled her lower belly in response to his touch already beginning to simmer again. To his credit, Sandor was able to keep the kisses chaste and tender for 'fifteen Mississippi' before Sansa sank her teeth into his bottom lip and found herself swiftly flipped onto her back, her lover looming over her with a look of pure desire-driven need.

"Last chance, little bird," he rumbled, eyes burning with hunger as they devoured her figure. Sansa didn't need to hear any more to understand what he meant. _If you give me the go ahead now, girl, there's no going back._ Pushing aside her lingering nervousness at the thought of truly giving herself to him, Sansa nodded up at him and then spread her legs in a gesture that affirmed her wish.

Although the shy young virgin partly expected her older and far more experienced boyfriend to ravage her as soon as she gave him permission, Sandor was strangely (though, unbeknownst to her, with _great_ effort) subdued and he nodded in return before placing a kiss against her sweaty forehead and positioning himself comfortably between her thighs.

"I'll be as gentle as I can be, Sansa," he murmured, his words sounding thick and slow to his foggy mind, "but god knows I can't control myself well around you."

She blushed slightly at the compliment and ran a trembling hand through his long dark brown hair. "I trust you."

With one final kiss, he submitted to his desperate need and entered her in one swift stroke, groaning between his clenched teeth when Sansa tensed and dug her manicured nails into his shoulders. Exhaling slowly through his nose, Sandor opened his eyes and looked down at his girlfriend, fighting the urge to continue moving inside her with every ounce of his self-control.

"Are you okay, little bird?"

She nodded after a minute and gave him a weak smile. "It hurt a little at first, but it's fading. I think I just needed to get used to it."

Sandor smiled back before finding one of her hands and holding it tightly in his own. "I love you, Sansa." Before, he wasn't sure if he had really meant it, but now, breathing in their combined scent as they lie together, as close as they could ever hope to be, he knew that he did, and wondered why it had taken him so damn long to realize it.

Her smile grew to a dazzling grin and she lifted herself enough to kiss him before responding happily against his lips. "I love you too, Sandor." She kissed him again and when her lips parted, she cautiously moved her hips by way of permission for Sandor to move again.

Groaning, he withdrew slightly before thrusting back in, as slowly as he could physically manage. This time, Sansa let out a little moan in response and he squeezed her hand, a heavy weight lifting from his shoulders.

Gradually, her responses grew louder and more emphatic, and by the time she was meeting each thrust with a rhythmic turn of her hips, Sandor was panting and swearing beside her ear between every gasp for breath.

"Fuck...Sansa... You're fucking...perfect... God...oh, God...I can't..."

She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and dragged him down to meet her lips as she arched her back and hitched one of her legs higher around his waist. "Please don't stop. I need...more."

Sandor groaned in frustration and shook his head, trying to keep himself from shaking as he moved faster inside of her. "I can't, little bird. I'm too close."

He couldn't tell if she was disappointed by his admission, but she nodded in response and dropped her head back down to his pillow, meeting his distracted gaze with a gentle and forgiving smile. "Then just let go."As though part of him had been waiting for her permission, any last reservations disappeared and he managed a few more uneven thrusts before spilling deep inside her with a low growl of her name.

The stars had just begun to fade from behind his eyes when Sansa brought a hand up to trace the line of his burns and he felt her lips move against his forehead before he actually heard the word that she had spoken.

"Sandor..."

"Hm?" If she was hoping for romantic pillow talk, she was gonna be out of luck. He could already feel himself drifting off into a deep, endorphin-induced slumber.

Instead, Sansa giggled quietly and then brought her mouth up beside his ruined ear. "Happy Valentine's Day."


End file.
